Vanished
by Corinna McDonald
Summary: When the bones of a Hollywood celebrity turn up, Booth and Brennan will chase her all over the US, leading them to explore their relationship and themselves. BB! Maybe some Hodgela.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: She's baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack. After my first attempt at fluff went over pretty well, I thought I'd go for a multichap story this time, so this is to be the prologue. Sorry for the short intro.

Disclaimer: Ha. I wish. No. I don't own Bones, because if I did, Booth would never leave my room. OO (Did I say that?)

Title: Vanish

Rating: T but will probably escalate to M.

Pairing: BoothBrennan, baby! What else? (Maybe some AngelaHodgins if the mood strikes me.)

Summary: When the bones of a Hollywood celebrity turn up, Booth and Brennan will chase her all over the US, leading them to explore their relationship and themselves.

Prologue 

_This must be what Hell feels like_. Temperance Brennan thought sourly, picking at her plate of fries and fanning herself. _It's got to be at least 95 degrees, never mind the humidity. _

"Bones, you have to eat something besides fries and a Coke." Booth scolded. "That's not a real lunch. Have a burger or something."

"No thank you." Brennan wrinkled her nose. "I'll probably get food poisoning."

Booth rolled his eyes. "Stop being so cranky."

Temperance gave Booth a pissy look and continued to pick at her fries.

"Hey." Booth narrowed his eyes. "What's that? Excuse me, miss." He flagged down a waitress. "Can you turn up the TV a moment please?"

"Sure." The waitress flicked the volume on the set up.

"In other news," a news anchor said. "Actress Hannah Madison-Chandler disappeared earlier this week. The twenty-one year old starred in_ Hell Week, Samantha, _and _Earlier This Year_, however, she was most famous for marrying billionaire playboy Chase Chandler three years ago. Hannah was last seen browsing at Butterfly, baby boutique to the stars."

Booth sighed. "She was pregnant."

Brennan studied the photo on the TV screen. "With twins, it looks like. She's too big to be carrying only one."

The two were silent for a moment. "I've got the check." Booth finally said, grabbing the receipt.

"No arguments here." Brennan raised her hands in surrender.

"Okay, let's pay this up and get back to DC."

"Sounds good."

-------------------

A/N2: So, that's the prologue, but don't worry, there's more. I am currently flying solo on this story so all grammatical/spelling mistakes are solely my own. Also, if anyone's interested, I could use an idea-bouncer for this story!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I fling myself on the ground at your feet begging for mercy! I'm so sorry about not having updated like…ever. I have another chapter written after this but I'm just the world's laziest person about typing it up and posting. But, thank you to everyone who has left me a kind review and serious thanks to everyone who's left me a review letting me know what I can do to improve or what's working. You guys are my lifeblood and…well, my lifeblood, basically. Also a big thanks to everyone who clicked on this story and has the patience to deal with me and my really bad posting habits.

Chapter One (Two Years Later) 

"Dr. Brennan, I think I found the COD." Zack Addy pointed out a fracture at the base of the skull. "It'll take us a while to narrow down what caused it, but it's pretty safe to say that whoever did this damaged her spinal cord, causing paralysis and then broke her neck."

"Looks possible." Brennan confirmed. "I'll be right back. I need to check with Ange on the facial recreation." She snapped off her gloves and shoved them into an evidence bag, initialing it quickly. "Ange?" Brennan called, walking into Angela's office, which contained the Angelator. "Angela, are you here?"

"Here." Angela popped up from behind her desk, holding the control pad to the Angelator. "Sweetie, you are not going to believe this."

"Believe what?"

"Look." Angela poked the digital pad a few times.

"At what?"

"Don't you recognize her?" Angela asked curiously.

"No."

"That's Hannah Madison."

Brennan squinted. "She looks different without all that hair and makeup. But yeah. Same bone structure."

"Tempe, we have a major star on the table." Angela said.

"She was definitely murdered." Brennan sighed. "I guess we should call the police and tell them we found Ms. Madison and her COD."

"Bren, we can't."

"Why not? She's dead. It's actually a crime not to tell them."

"Sweetie, don't you remember? These bones were found in a national park. That makes them federal jurisdiction. And it's a homicide. Booth works in the Homicide division of the FBI. _And_ he's the liaison between the FBI and the Jeffersonian. You have to call him." Angela looked triumphant.

"Can you do it? I have an appointment and I'm late and I have to go."

"Tempe, what the Hell is going on between you and Booth? He hasn't been around lately and you've been even more workaholic than usual. Did you guys have a fight or something?"

"Just a difference in political views. Nothing major. We're just taking some cooling off time."

"Some _'cooling off'_ time?" Angela raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Cooling off time." Brennan replied firmly.

"Right." Angela clearly didn't believe her. "Well, whatever's going on, you'll have to call Booth. I have other stuff that's gotta get done."

"You sure you can't find a few minutes to call Booth?"

"Bren, you're just going to have to suck it up and call Booth yourself. Sorry." Angela had to fight not to laugh at Brennan's _I'd-rather-be-ripped-limb-from-limb_ expression.

"Oh. Okay." Temperance fidgeted. "Maybe I can get Hodgins to do it."

"Yeah, that's a great idea." Angela retorted. "Those two are like best buddies."

"Zack, then?"

"Busy. And I know you're not going to ask Cam."

"You're going to force me to speak to Booth, aren't you?"

"If it kills you."

BONES

"Hannah Chandler, really?" Booth asked interestedly.

"That's what Angela said. And she has the same bone structure as the girl we saw on the TV."

"Bones, that was two years ago. How can you remember what she looked like?"

"I have a good memory. Anyway, we're still waiting on an absolute confirmation, but all signs point to the skeleton being Hannah. Did you ever talk to the husband?"

"No. The local police did a prelim interview when Hannah disappeared. We should re-interview him now that we have the bones and it's an FBI case. I'll get that done." Booth hesitated. "Bones, are you mad at me or something?"

Temperance froze. "Why would you ask that?"

"Gee, I don't know. Maybe because you haven't spoken to me since that trip to Barker? What is going on, Temperance?"

"Nothing." She shrugged off Booth's concern.

"Don't lie to me. Did I say something to offend you? Was it –"

"No." Tempe cut Booth off. "It wasn't that."

"Well, what is it then?"

"Nothing."

"Is it because I didn't invite you on the interview?"

"I have work to do." Temperance pushed Booth aside.

"No." Booth grabbed Temperance's arm hard enough to keep her from leaving, but not hard enough to hurt her. "Tell me what the Hell is going on."

"You do realize that given about ten seconds, I could have you flat on your back, right?" Temperance scowled.

"Bones, I've fought hand-to-hand combat with men much bigger than you are. I'm not scared."

"I will break your arm." Temperance threatened.

"Fine." Booth released Temperance's arm. "Be pissed. I'm outta here. Call when you know something more about Hannah."

"Sure."

"Good."

"Fine."

"Great."

"Very mature."

Booth glared and stalked out of the room.

BONES

"Bones, come on. I know you want to go on this interview. Quit being so childish."

"Don't tell me I'm being childish."

"I'm sorry, okay? Whatever I did, I'm sorry." He turned his puppy dog stare on Temperance. "Let's just go interview the husband, okay? I need your help on this one."

"Fine." Temperance relented. "As long as you stop asking me what's wrong."

"Deal."

BONES

"We're here to see Mr. Chandler." Booth flashed his FBI ID at the security guard. "This is Dr. Brennan. She consults with the FBI."

The security guard pressed the intercom button. "Mr. Chandler, the FBI would like to have a word with you."

The intercom crackled for a few seconds. "About?"

"Hannah." Booth told the guard.

"Mrs. Chandler, sir." The guard relayed the information.

The intercom was silent a moment, then the crackling returned. "Send them in."

Booth had envisioned a buff, if not in top shape man, maybe with slightly thinning hair and a leer permanently glued to his face. Instead, Chandler had a head of thick blonde hair and a pleasant but worried smile focused mainly on Booth. "Agent Booth, what can I do for you? You said this was about Hannah?"

"You have pictures of Hannah all over the house." Temperance noted.

"I loved my wife very much."

"We can see." Booth shot Temperance a look. "Did your wife have any enemies?"

"Hannah stepped on quite a few toes getting to the top." Chase said carefully. "I'm not going to say that everyone liked Hannah, but no one hated her enough to have her kidnapped and –" Chase stopped as though he couldn't force the word "killed" out of his mouth.

"How many years difference between you and Ms. Madison?" Temperance jumped in again.

"Bones!"

"That's alright." Chase smiled indulgently. "Twenty one years between Mrs. Chandler and myself."

"Was Hannah acting strangely before she disappeared?" Booth attempted to regain control of the interview.

"A little. She'd been fighting with her family. Our first anniversary was right before Thanksgiving. She had invited her family to Thanksgiving dinner so that they could see how in love we were. She thought that maybe if her family sow how normal we were they might give us their blessing. All throughout dinner Hannah's mother kept complaining. The food was too hot, too cold, too salty, then too bland. Then her brother started in on my music. Her father asked why I'd only settled for a MacLaren when a Lamborghini was so much more mid-life crisis. But Hannah was handling it all until her sister called her a gold-digging whore."

"What happened then?" Booth pressed.

"She threw them out. Said they weren't welcome in our home. Her dad looked like he was about to shit a brick. I have never been more proud of her. God I miss her." Chase glanced away for a second. "Sorry. I don't mean to – anyway, Hannah threw them out. Her father told her that she would regret getting involved with me. And Hannah told them that getting involved with me was the only smart thing she'd ever done."

"Did anything happen or did Hannah disappear right after that?" Brennan asked.

"She seemed fine, but then about a month later when Hannah started showing and some entertainment show did a story on her pregnancy, her parents called to criticize her for having a child with me. She was practically mute for maybe another week after that. Which was weird because Hannah was always a chatterbox. And then I woke up one morning and she was gone. Just…gone."

"Any idea where she went?" Booth couldn't believe that the husband was talking so freely and without a lawyer.

"I called her parents, much as it killed me. Her mother said she probably realized what I really was and ran. But that wasn't Hannah. I called her friends but nobody knew anything. I hired a private investigator, but nothing turned up.

Booth nodded. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Chandler."

"Agent Booth, if I can do anything to help, please call. Day or night. Please. I loved Hannah. I have to know who…who…"

"Murdered her?" Temperance supplied as gently as possible.

"Yes. I have to go, but let me give you my private number. Anything to help."

"We'll be in touch."

BONES

"So, what do you think?" Booth asked, waiting for Sid to hand him his food.

"About what?"

"Chandler. And Hannah."

"He loved her. A lot."

"How do you know?" Booth queried. "He talked about Hannah in the past tense."

"It's been two years, Booth. He's acknowledged that Hannah isn't coming back." She gave him a pointed look. "I'd referred to by parents in the past tense maybe a year later. After a while you give up hope. Either they're dead or they want you to believe they're dead. The whole past tense thing is really only helpful within the first few days or weeks of a person's death. Besides, it's psychology. And you know how much I hate psychology."

"You didn't answer my question. How do you know he loved her?"

"The pictures he had of her."

"That doesn't prove anything. I've seen murderers who put up pictures of their wives just to pretend that they loved them. It's sick and twisted, but it happens."

"No, it was the types of photos he had."

"The types of photos?" Booth furrowed his brows.

"There was a portrait of her over the fireplace, but all the rest of the pictures were candid. Some of just her, where she didn't even know he was taking her picture. Others were of both of them and their bodies were facing each other in a manner that indicates they were close."

"People in love do crazy things."

"I just don't think it was him." She shrugged.

"Look at you, using your gut and stuff." Booth teased.

"We can't cross him off the list yet." Temperance conceded. "But let's also remember we don't have any proof that it _was_ him either."

"Temperance Brennan, aren't you just a closet romantic?"

"Shut up."

BONES

A/N2: So that's chapter one. Things I want your perspective on:

What made Temperance all pissy at Booth?

Yea Chase Chandler or Nay Chase Chandler?

Did you like or not like Romantic(ish)!Temperance?

Are you totally excited for the fact that Booth and Brennan will have to travel around a lot to solve this case, which means hotels, hotels, hotels?


End file.
